


Crystal Blooms in Darkness

by WandersUnderStarlight



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Hades and Persephone, M/M, mythology AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-09-25 12:49:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9821177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandersUnderStarlight/pseuds/WandersUnderStarlight
Summary: Being the King of the Underworld is a lonely existence. Then he heard the song in the forest and his spark was captured.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> A retelling of the Hades and Persephone myth with my favorite transformers.

Cycles in the Underworld tended to start looking alike after thousands of vorns. The grey-blue hue of twilight that permeated the realm lent a dream-like quality to the fields and rivers that surrounded the great palace of the God of the Dead. The shades of deactivated sparks lined the path to the great building waiting their turn to be judged after crossing the roiling river of the dead. The Well awaited virtuous sparks, while the wicked sparks were sent to the Pit. Those not ready to move on to the Well wandered the lands waiting for loved ones or mourning their lost life.

Prowl sometimes grew weary of his esteemed position as King of the Underworld. Oh he would never say as much, but his loyal servants could see it in the way he watched over his domain with exhausted icy blue optics. He rarely left the Underworld, but they knew after such a sighting, it would only be a matter of cycles before he’d disappear for a few joors and come back in much better spirits. 

When the cycle of his customary “disappearance” came around, he slipped quietly out of the palace and through a labyrinthine cave system where the veil between his realm and the mortal world was thin and ever changing. He crossed over and emerged from a small cave opening into a remote forest in the upper world. He admired how the light of their star danced among the crystalline trees. Life flourished here: growths of filigre minerals weaved and bent under his pedes, a fresh energon stream flowed with a delicate gurgle nearby and the trills of mecha-sparrows filled the breeze. While his welcome at Primus’ mountain would have been warm, he preferred this graceful solitude to the ruckus of whatever event was ongoing there.

Prowl adored crystals, though only a single strain of milky white blooms flourished in the Underworld. Nothing like the varied rainbow of hues that appeared in the upper world. As he luxuriated in the light and peace of the place he’d found, the beautiful sound of a lilting song reached his audials. Pure tone and resonance echo around him, enrapturing.   
He followed the enticing sound, slipping from tree to tree silently. He realized that he’d ended up following the stream and paused as the terrain opened from the forest to a gentle rolling field. Small, multicolored crystal blooms dotted the landscape around the flowing stream. 

Prowl finally identified the source of the song. A young god crouched in the field and as Prowl watched, gently coaxed a bloom to sprout between his cupped servos with the sweet melodic tones spilling forth from his smiling dermas. The mech was loveliness incarnate.

Black and white plating similar to his own dipped and curved gracefully with perfectly placed red and blue accents. The white dazzled while the black sparkled with a micha undercoat. An elegant blue visor was enhanced by a set of tapered audial horns.

“Jazz!”

Prowl’s reverie was rudely interrupted by a bright voice causing the mech’s song to cease and his helm to jerk up. Though still concealed by the trees Prowl wrapped shadows around himself to be sure he wasn’t seen.

A small yellow nymph ran into the meadow from the opposite direction. “Come on Jazz! Your carrier is looking for you!”

“Comin’, Bee.” The so named Jazz said, rising from his crouch. His gait was an unconsciously sensual glide as he made his way over to his friend. Several steps were turned into a dance as he spun and reveled in the light of the cycle. Jazz laughed and grabbed the nymph’s servos spinning both of them in innocent glee before the two of them dashed off into the forest giggling. 

It seemed to Prowl that the mech took some of the light with him when he left. 

When Prowl returned to the Underworld, his servants whispered together worriedly. Instead of looking refresh as his cycle off usually left him, their king looked pensive and preoccupied. Oh he held court as normal and passed judgement on the incoming shades with the appropriate amount of diligence, but something was different. 

A few cycles later, he disappeared from the palace again, causing a mild stir among his servants. A pattern of Prowl leaving for joors every few cycles and coming back in a state of meditative rumination continued for three full orns. Then, one cycle after he dismissed the court for the cycle instead of leaving the great hall he stood and surveyed his throne seemingly lost in thought.

Suddenly he beckoned to a servant, “Axel,” no one knew how he remembered even the lowliest servant’s names, “bring me shades that know of master crystalwork.”

Axel bowed. “At once, my lord.”

As the mech scampered off he summoned another. “Quickgrip, have the rooms beside my own opened and refurbished.”

“Of course, my lord.” The femme bobbed a bow. “What furnishings would my lord wish?”

He thought on this for a moment. “Silver and bismuth with blue meshes.”

“Yes, my lord.” She hurried off.

A few breems later, Axel came back with three bewildered shades in tow.

“You are master crystalworkers?” Prowl somehow made the question seem like a demand.

“Yes, my lord.” They chorused nervously.

Prowl nodded in acceptance and then to everyone’s shock set his pedes and moved his great black onyx and titanium throne to one side of the dais. Without seeming stressed by his exertion in the slightest he turned back and pointed imperiously to the now empty space to the right of his throne. 

“You will construct another throne made of crystals here. It is to look like a bloom. Axel will show you to the palace garden where you may harvest your materials. I trust you are up for the task?”

The gobsmacked shades could only nod in agreement. Prowl looked satisfied and swept from the room. Some of the other servants tittered to one another.

What could it mean?


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a chapter done. Sorry it's short!

Jazz had always been a godling that loved simple things. He liked music and he liked the wild crystal growths of the mortal world. One of Jazz’s talents was the ability to listen to the harmonics the crystals gave off and match the tone with his own voice causing them to grow. 

His carrier often said that if he’d so chosen, he could have charmed all of the Gods on Primus’ mountain to bend to his every whim. Jazz, however, left the mountain to the greater Gods and delighted in wandering the forests of the mortal realm. He kept the company of the kind, sweet nymphs; dancing, singing and talking with them. Though sometimes they bored him, and on those cycles he roamed by himself.

Such was this cycle. He left behind the laughing, dancing nymphs, walking so far that their sounds faded among the crystal branches.

He soon came upon another small open meadow and sat down humming to himself. He wasn't dissatisfied with his existence, but he sometimes couldn’t help but feel that he was supposed to be doing greater things. 

If only his carrier would let him out from her smothering gaze. He loved her, but she never let him to do anything exciting!

A small sound drew his attention away from his self-reflection. His optics fell on the sight of a crystal blooming up from the mineral-soil. It was unlike any crystal bud he’d ever seen. Pure opaque white instead of semi-translucent color. The crystal sang with a strange harmonic; one he’d never heard before.

Intrigued, he crawled over to the bloom and settled next to it on his knees. He cupped his servos around it, just listening for a moment. Then, opening his mouth, he sang with the crystal. The white crystal’s song was an eerie and haunting dirge. It made his plating shiver. Between his servos the crystal grew new branching spindles.

He loved it.

Digging his servos in the crushed minerals around it, he worked to gently extract its roots from the ground so he could take it back home with him. Finally, after a few breems of work, he had the strange new crystal free from the ground and he happily subspaced it thinking about sharing his discovery with Bumblebee.

An echoy crack to his left made him jump in surprise as a rift appeared in the ground. Darkness spilled forth from what appeared to be a hole in reality. Jazz was on his feet in a flash.

From the rift four black turbo-horses appeared tossing their heads and snorting blue flames. They were hitched to a black titanium chariot trimmed in silver. Driving the chariot was a tall black and white mech with armor-like plating. Even from the distance, Jazz could see the cold blue optics. Optics that seemed to be fixed on him.

He felt frozen, unable to tear his optics from that stare.

Suddenly the turbo-horses let out a cacophony of snorts and whinnies as the mech flicked the reins sharply. The chariot shot forward and came straight for him. His spark lurched in fear and he turned to run as fast as he could to put distance between him and his pursuer. His intakes wheezed as an unnatural fatigue and heaviness suddenly dragging on his frame. It made no sense. He was a godling; he should not have been this tired.

The turbo horses were suddenly racing past him. His world tilted as the black and white mech leaned over the edge of the chariot as it caught up with him and scooped him up into an unbreakable embrace. So tight was the mech’s hold on him, he couldn’t even struggle against the grip. 

The chariot made an abrupt 180 degree turn back toward the rift. The chariot reached an impossible speed as it approached the rift. All the air left his bronchial vents in a scream as the chariot hit the rift and the world tilted once again; it felt as if they were traveling straight down surrounded by that otherworldly darkness. It was all too much for Jazz then; his systems crashed taking his consciousness with them.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And our two black and whites finally meet properly.

His systems booted up slowly. More slowly than was normal. When the fog cleared, Jazz cycled on his optics and took stock of his surroundings. He was in a large, ornate silver and white berth canopied with layers of sheer fabric. The entire room reflected the lavish details of the berth and was colored in shining slivers, pale whites and deep hues of blue. The confusion of how he got there was chased away as the memories crashed back to him. Where was he?

He sat up… and froze. The black and white mech from the chariot was standing framed in one of the doorways. Those cold blue optics were trained on him. The air in his vents stuttered; such intense scrutiny was a little intimidating. Jazz wasn’t afraid… exactly, it’s just that there was... something about those optics.

“W-where am I? Who are you?”

The mech didn’t answer at first, walking to the berth slowly. Jazz stubbornly held his ground as the mech pulled back the sheer meshes draping from the canopy and then sat down facing to him on the edge of the ornate berth. He also refused to move as the mech brought a claw-tipped hand up to cup Jazz’s cheek. His vents hitched as a thumb stroked his cheek ridge.

“I am Prowl.”

“...God of the Underworld.” Jazz whispered. “Am I…? I’m in the Underworld, aren’t I?”

“Yes.” Prowl murmured.

Jazz’s visor flickered in apprehension. “You kidnapped me… Why?”

Prowl’s optics bore into him. The servo on his cheek moved from his face and down his form, microns from his plating, to gently clasp his own servo. Prowl brought the servo to his dermas and pressed a brief kiss to the back of it. “I would have you as my companion.”

“Your _companion_? You brought me here just to... to...” Jazz tried to curl away from the more powerful god only to have Prowl refuse to relent his hold.

“You misunderstand me, lovely one. I would have you as my companion in all things. I would have you as my Queen.”

“Queen? _Me_? You don’t even know me!”

Prowl seemed to ignore his outburst. “I know that you were stifled in your old life. Your carrier and those nymphs she set as your watchers kept you locked away from everything. I know that you are more powerful than even your mother can possibly imagine. You just need the opportunity to grow into your potential which you cannot do within your carrier’s clutches. I know that you are compassionate, kind, loyal; beautiful on the inside as well as out. I have watched you and I have _seen_ you. I am not too proud to admit that I coveted you from the first moment I saw you, but I want you for more than just your pretty plating. I want everything.”

Prowl’s intensity was scaring Jazz, he lashed out verbally. “I don’t want to be your Queen. I want to go home!”

He gave Jazz’s servo a light squeeze before releasing it. He stood. “It will take time for you to acclimate to the Underworld. The palace and grounds are open to you. Dinner will be served in the great hall shortly. If you need assistance my servants will attend you.”

Thrown off by the surety in Prowl’s voice, all Jazz could think to ask was, “Where are you going?”

Prowl smiled serenely at him. “I have a couple things to attend to before dinner. Please make yourself at home.” And with that he left the room.

Once alone, Jazz put his helm in his servos, processor whirling. The plating on the back of the servo that Prowl had kissed tingled. 

How? _Why_?

A static-y sob escaped his vocalizer, his systems hiccuping in distress. After a few breems to compose himself, Jazz cycled air deeply through his vents and got up. Wallowing in the berth wasn’t going to help his situation any. Prowl had said he could explore this place and he was going to. Maybe he could find a way to escape!

First he went to a set of glass doors that opened onto a balcony. He was very high up, climbing down was a no go. Above him, there was no sky, but a grey-blue hazy mist. It looked like acid rain might fall at any moment. Below, a barren looking land spread out as far as the optic could see, crisscrossed by many rivers. There was a slight chill in the air and Jazz shivered. He walked back inside and shut the doors.

It was only now that he noticed the grand fireplace which was lit to warm the place. He crept across the room to another door which opened to reveal a lavish washracks and sunken oil pool. Inlaid gems and filigree twinkled in the light provided by a glowing, hanging globe in the center of the ceiling. Was every room here like this? Jazz had never seen so much opulence in one place before and he hadn’t even left the suite yet. 

The last door that didn’t lead out into the hallway turned out to be a closet big enough to dance in with a full length mirror in the center. The walls were lined with meshes of every color to wear and in an etched case to the side of the room, rows upon rows of matching jewelry. Was all this finery meant just for him? 

He couldn’t help but run his digits over the meshes marveling at the textures and colors. Trying one on couldn’t hurt, right? It felt forbidden. As if doing so would betray something.

His servo gravitated towards a sheer dark blue mesh embroidered with silvery metal threads that made the garment seem to sparkle. 

Jazz glanced around furtively and immediately felt silly for doing so. Putting on the clothes wouldn’t hurt anything. It might, in fact, ingratiate him to his “host” and facilitate negotiating his release. 

He took the mesh down off the hanger and put it on. It pinned at his right shoulder strut with a sapphire brooch and fell in draping waves down to his knees. He chose a shimmering black belt to fasten around his middle. Then he couldn’t help but drift over to the jewelry case. A tungsten and sapphire necklace caught his optic and he put it on along with the matching audial horn adornments.

Jazz luxuriated in the feel of the mesh and jewels for a moment and then caught his reflection in the full length mirror. He was shocked and a bit awestruck by how he looked. Not just a little crystal godling, but something regal. Something important. 

A knock on his door startled him. How long had he been standing there gawking at his own reflection?

Jazz answered the door and a freshly polished Prowl stood on the other side. He too wore a fine mesh, this one a deep ruby. The mech’s optics swept over and devoured his frame, vents hitching just the slightest bit. Heat trickled through Jazz’s circuits, his servo clenching on the half open door. 

“Um, yes? ...my lord?”

“Truly I have no words to express how beautiful I find you.”

“I… thank you? But why are you… here?”

Prowl gave a slight smile. “Dinner awaits us. Join me?”

Jazz thought for a moment to refuse, but then steeled his nerve and took Prowl’s proffered arm. Not interacting with the King of the Underworld would do nothing to help convince the mech to let him leave.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now Jazz decides to freak out...

He sort of hated to admit it, but the castle of the King of the Underworld delighted him with its strange beauty. The halls through which he was led were made of polished black marble shot through with veins of valuable metals. Ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling crowned with a multitude of colored glowing gems. In some places extensive mosaics made of precious stones stretched across the floors beneath his pedes.

He had forgotten that the God of the Underworld was also the God of the Riches of the Underground.

Mechs with faded colors darted to and fro through the halls. Jazz realized that they were shades and after the fourth one bowed to the two of them, it occurred to him that they were the servants Prowl had spoken of.

The older god led Jazz to a grand room. Three large blazing fireplaces dominated to back wall. A table stood in the center, large enough to seat at least two score mechs, but only set for two. Intricately woven meshes depicting scenes from the world above covered the walls and made Jazz’s spark ache for home. Prowl offered him a seat.

The servants set a chalice of energon in front of each of them along with several bowls and platters of additives. Jazz’s looked like normal rosy energon while Prowl’s was a strange white-blue color. Jazz stared at in for a moment an old adage running through his processors.

Prowl explained without being prompted. “To drink energon of the Underworld binds you to it. You are not ready for that decision yet. Your energon is from the mortal world, as are the additives. You have nothing to fear.”

After a few breems of toying with his energon, Jazz couldn’t help but open his mouth.

“Um, sir?”

“Please call me Prowl.”

“...Prowl. I… I wish to go home. Please, take me back?”

“I will not.”

“Why?!” Jazz demanded.

Prowl paused to sip the pale Underworld energon as if weighing his answer. Jazz filled the silence impatiently. “Please! I miss my carrier. I miss my friends. Can you even feel how cold it is here? I miss the light, the warmth of the surface. I would spend joors in the fields dancing with the nymphs.” His spark ached.

Prowl put his chalice down and tipped Jazz’s chin up with a crooked digit to meet his optics. “I find myself jealous of those that knew you before I. There are fields for you to dance in here. There are friendships to be made here. As well as more.” Prowl’s optics were once again that frightening intensity.

“You can’t keep me here.” Jazz whispered.

“You will find that I can, my Queen.”

Jazz jerked out of his hold and stood abruptly, chair clattering behind him. “I’m _not_ your Queen! How can you-!”

“You long for the familiar.” Prowl said mildly, cutting off his tirade. “And you are angry for the way you were brought here. You are afraid of the Underworld. That it will forever change you. And it will. But it will only strengthen you. You are not a crystal to be extinguished under the darkness. Even now you shine more vividly than our star.”

Jazz couldn’t take the pointed and accurate commentary anymore and he fled out of the room and down several hallways until he realized that he didn’t know his way back to his room. He took refuge in a small curtained alcove. He needed to find a way out of here.

Step one would be to get outside. But he had no idea how to do that.

He cautiously stepped out of the alcove glancing nervously around for Prowl. Then he stopped the next passing servant and asked to be taken to the grounds, afraid for a moment that he would be denied. .

To his relief and bemusement, the servant nearly tripped over himself to acquiesce to Jazz’s whim. It humbled the visored mech a bit as he hadn’t expected such deference.

The servant took him through several lavish hallways and out an arched doorway with a heavy iron door to a walled garden. Jazz immediately felt lighter being outside of the castle. His vents caught when he got a good look around and realized that the entire garden was filled with those strange white crystal blossoms.He walked to the middle of the garden, confused and growing upset. He sank to his knees and pulled out the crystal he’d found in the forest cradling it in his servos.

A crystal from the Underworld.

Something he loved had originated from this dark realm.

He shut his optics off. Around him the crystals whispered and murmured their sorrowful song. Pressure built up in his vocalizer. Without thinking Jazz opened his mouth and sang with the crystals. A lilting mourning song that rose and wailed as he grieved his lost life and put to voice his fears for the future. Warm power flowed through his core and spark like he’d never felt before. Distantly he thought he heard the servant cry out in surprised awe, but he was too intent on the unearthly melody to give it much thought. 

The song reached a crescendo, Jazz’s vocalizer shorted and spat static.

He felt wrung out and empty, but also better in some way. As if letting out all that emotion had freed him somehow. He turned his optics back on and looked around blearily.

The crystals around him had grown up and around him into a lush thicket. He couldn’t even see the walls and castle through the opaque branches. The crystal in his servos had lengthened and grown into a long elegant staff topped with a flowering crystal bud. He got up from the hollow that had been left around him and made his way out of the encompassing crystals. 

It surprised him when he stumbled, fatigue weighing down on him. He clutched at the crystals and leaned on the staff to steady himself. After a moment, Jazz made it out of the thick crystals only to stumble again and into waiting arms.

He struggled in confusion, though his weariness made them weak. 

“Easy now.” Prowl’s voice was gentle. “You’ve exerted yourself quite a bit.”

Jazz’s helm lolled back to focus on the older god’s face. “What did I do?”

Prowl turned him gently which allowed him to see the virtual forest that he’d sprouted in the walled garden.

“It is as I said, you need the space to grow into your potential.”

“I… I’m dizzy…”

And to his (much later) consternation, he fainted in Prowl’s arms.


	5. Chapter Five

Jazz woke with his helm pillowed on Prowl’s thigh; gentle servo resting on his shoulder strut. He half turned onto his back and met the icy, yet affectionate optics of the other god. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked empathetically.

The visored godling stuttered shyly as he sat up. “Wh-why?” And gestured between the two of them.

“You were cold.” Prowl said reasonably. 

Jazz thought it best to change the subject. “What happened? How did I do that?”

The God of the Underworld smiled. “That was you beginning to grow into your power.”

“My power?” Jazz said in confusion. “But I’m just a crystal god.”

Prowl cupped his chin for a moment before dropping his servo back down. “You are not. You are something so much more than that.”

“How do you know?”

Prowl suddenly gained a far away look that made him seem markedly older than his frame suggested. “I sit and judge mechs every cycle. I see into their sparks and know them.”

Jazz shifted uneasily. “Is my spark as easy to see as a mortal’s?”

Prowl gave a small hum of a laugh the age falling away from his optics. “No, I just have vorns of practice.”

Somehow that made Jazz feel better and he offered a hesitant smile.

Prowl retrieved a chalice of normal energon from the bedside table and handed it to Jazz who suddenly realized that he was famished. As he drank, Prowl spoke again,

“There is something I wish to show you, if you are feeling up to a bit of a walk.”

Wary, but intrigued, Jazz agreed and finished his energon.

Prowl let them out past the walls. Jazz peered slightly in awe at the thick growth of crystals he’d made as they passed. Already several servant-shades were pruning back bits of it here and there and carrying armfuls of crystal buds back into the palace. 

After some time, they stopped in one of the many open fields. It was empty and barren save for a huge ancient-looking gnarled crystalline tree devoid of the tiny spindles that indicated new growth. 

“This is the oldest structure in my realm,” Prowl said placing a servo on the trunk of the tree. “It was here before even the rivers formed. Some say its roots reach into the very spark of Cybertron. I thought you might like to see it.”

Jazz hesitantly put his hand on the trunk next to Prowl’s. He shut his optics off and listened. A primordial aria susurrated through his frame. Invisible paths of energy coiled through his wires and plating to join that pocket of warm power he’d tapped into earlier. He hadn’t realized until this moment that it was still there. A benign comfortable weight surrounding his spark.

“Oh,” he whispered. “It’s… alive. It’s talking to me.” 

Prowl moved to be a solid stable presence behind him. “What does it say to you, Jazz?” he murmured lowly.

“It’s been waiting a long time for… for me? But why…?”

The song grew clearer. Louder. Resolving whispers into ancient words that Jazz could somehow still understand. The voice of a creator singing in pride and happiness.

_Growth._ _Resumption._ _Rebirth._ _I_ _offer_ _my_ _most_ _sincerest_ _welcome_ _God_ _of_ _Renewal._

Jazz online his optics as a thrum of energy vibrated through him like the string of a vibro-harp being plucked. Power pulsed out of him in a small shockwave. Following the wave, mineral filigree sprouted up from the ground, crystalline buds burst forth from the tree branches and a pool of white-blue energon bubbled up in a previously dry hollow.

Jazz looked around himself in wonder leaning unconsciously into the god at his back. “I did all this? Just me?”

The new crystals chimed as if blown by a gentle breeze, almost sounding like genial tinkling laughter.

Prowl gave a soft hum and ran his servo down Jazz’s side. “Still think you are ‘just a crystal god’?”

Jazz ducked his helm in embarrassment when he realized that he was nearly wrapped in the other mech’s embrace, but made no move to pull away.

“No,” he murmured, “not anymore.”

 

In the above world, a femme rushed through glen and field calling for Jazz with increasing desperation. Finally she screeched to the skies,

“Where is my creation?!”

Around her pedes the crystals began to crumble and turn to dust.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little musical interlude. (Also got a wink and a nod to one of my favorite animes). :)

A decacycle had passed quickly. After the optic-opening experiences of his first cycles in the Underworld, Jazz wasn’t sure what to think anymore. His carrier had always called him a crystal god, but now it seemed he was more than that. Had she known? 

His spark ached when he thought about her. Was she worried about him? Looking for him? He hoped she was coping alright.

And then there was Prowl.

Despite laying spoken claim to him the moment he’d gotten here, Prowl had forced nothing upon him. The God of the Underworld had every opportunity to take what he very obviously wanted, and yet he’d been nothing but gentle and respectful. Kind. Already Jazz had lost his fear of the older god and instead found himself intrigued. Their shared meals allowed Jazz to start to get to know him. At their evening meal just the previous cycle, the visored god had worked up the courage to ask Prowl about his excursions into the upper world.

“I didn’t know you ever went to the mortal world. Much less into the remote forests where I wandered.” Jazz had ventured.

“That is precisely why I chose such places.” Was Prowl’s response.

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes the stress of my duties weigh heavily on me and I like to get away from them to enjoy the world. Most mortals fear me and most gods only tolerate me, so I find it best to enjoy the world where they are not.”

“...That sounds lonely.”

“That is how things are.” Prowl’s words had been soft, but unerring.

Jazz had thought for a moment and answered without recrimination. “Not anymore.”

From the brightening of Prowl’s optics he could see that he’d surprised the other with his candor and a small smile lit the older god’s face.

The memory made his circuits warm with a delicate, as-yet-unnamed feeling.

Jazz was finally starting to remember his way around the palace, though he had yet to explore it all. He’d been hesitant at first, but soon his natural curiosity had won out and he’d ventured through the halls by himself while Prowl held court to judge the dead. The thought of that particular task still made his plating shiver, so he’d not yet worked up the nerve to go into the actual throne room.

Today he was poking around one of the upper floors. Jazz happily ran his digits over a sprig of crystals arranged in a vase on a side table in the hall. He gave a gentle hum to perk up their brightness as he passed. Ever since the garden incident, the servant-shades had gathered many of the crystalline blooms from what they were calling “his” garden and filled the castle with beautiful arrangements. Seeing them always set him at ease. 

So far this floor boasted a pretty sitting room, a balcony and two unused guest suites. A gold arched door was next and Jazz tested the handle, sure that it was going to be locked. However it swung open easily on polished hinges.

Jazz peered into the open doorway and nearly squealed in glee. A music room! Instruments of all types lined the walls and filled the large space. The ceiling was domed to provide the best acoustics. Luminescent glass globes set upon iron sconces sent light bouncing into every nook of the room and off the gleaming instruments.

A bright, happy smile nearly overtook his face as he entered. He reverently ran his servos over strings, keys, and buttons.

It would be alright if he played, wouldn’t it? Prowl wouldn’t have left the door unlocked if he didn’t want Jazz in here.

Jazz selected a vibrolin from where it hung on the wall along with it’s bow, strung with turbo-horsehair. He drew the bow across the strings. It was perfectly in tune. Jazz turned off his optics and launched into a song he’d once heard a wandering mortal play. Then another. And another. 

Fast songs, slow ballads, happy jigs, and melancholy melodies. On and on he played, spark buoyant with joy. He lost track of time. Lost himself in the music.

He suddenly became aware of someone playing an electro-flute along side his vibrolin’s melody. Without turning his optics on, he experimentally turned the melody into a call and response between the two instruments. The electro-flute followed flawlessly, bantering the cheerful tune back and forth, before joining together with him again to finish the song.

Jazz turned on his optics and beheld Prowl gazing back at him from across the room, electro-flute in servo.

“I didn’t know you played.” Jazz said with a smile and small stutter of his vents.

“Not many do,” Prowl said, “but I am quite fond of music.”

The way the older god looked at him as he said it made that unnamed feeling skitter across his neural net. The air around them felt charged. Not exactly certain what to do, Jazz raised his bow again and invited,

“Play more with me?”

Prowl bowed his helm to him with smile. “It would be my pleasure.”


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter decided to go where I wasn't expecting... Hope you enjoy.

“Prowl?” Jazz asked tentatively at dinner. “I’d like to go see the spark tree again.” That’s what he’d begun calling the ancient tree. “Would… would you like to come with me?”

The elder god’s optics brightened in happiness. “I would like that, yes.”

After they finished their meal they strolled out to the once barren field. It now flourished with metals and crystals. Jazz smiled. He heard a giggle and suddenly three sparkling shades ran across the field playing some sort of game that only they knew the rules of.

Jazz gasped and turned to Prowl. “Sparklings?”

“Some deactivate far too young.” Prowl said solemnly. “Sometimes they don’t understand what it means to go to the Well, or they are scared to go and they stay in the Underworld for a time.”

“Oh.” Jazz said softly, sadly. 

“If it brings you a measure of comfort, they have an easy existence and when they do decided they are ready to move on they are more likely to reincarnate.”

The visored god smiled slightly. “That does make me feel a bit better, yes.”

Then he noticed a fourth sparkling sitting under the spark tree with its little knees drawn up to its chestplate. Jazz immediately walked over and sat next to it. He hesitantly placed his servo on the sparkling’s helm and stroked the faded grey plating gently.

“What’s wrong, bitlit? Why aren’t you playing with the others?”

“Don’t wanna. Wanna song. Carrier used to sing me songs. Want my carrier.”

The words were unhappy and mulish even as the sparkling leaned into his touch.

“Well… would you mind if I sang you a song?” Jazz offered.

“Would you?” The sparkling looked at him with huge hopeful optics.

In lieu of answering, Jazz began to sing. He sang of warm happy cycles and the love of a creator.

The sparkling sighed out through its small vents and leaned against his chassie. 

Little by little he realized that the sparkling was fading away and his song faltered for a moment.

“Keep singing.” Prowl murmured in his audio. Jazz hadn’t even felt the other kneel next to him. 

Jazz’s melody strengthened again. The diminutive frame shimmered out of existence leaving a brightly glowing spark cradled in Jazz’s servos. Prowl cupped his servos around Jazz’s, optics flaring with an otherworldly glow. His voice rumbled warmly like distant thunder.

“ _Go_ _now_. _The_ _Well_ _and_ _a_ _new_ _life_ _await_ _you_.”

The little spark bounced in their servos and then zipped around their helms in a spiral and danced into the distance towards the Well. Jazz watched until it was out of sight. 

Prowl’s voice drew his attention back to the older god still clasping his servos. “Thank you, Jazz, for helping that little one find peace.”

Jazz bowed his helm, “But I didn’t do anything.”

Above him he heard a discordant chime of crystalline spindles as if the tree disagreed.

“You showed compassion, sympathy. Something that many will tell you is missing from my realm because of my influence.”

Jazz’s optics flashed indignantly. “That’s not true! You’re so kind. And I’ve seen you interacting with the servants, you treat them so well and they all adore you. You don’t demand things, which is more than I can say for some of the gods from the Mountain. The shades that I see leaving the castle to reside here only ever speak of you with respect. How could somebot know you and not see those things?”

Prowl stared at him for a few breems, seemingly taken aback by his outburst. Then said softly in wonderment. “You truly are a gift.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” Jazz asked, suddenly flustered by the attention.

Prowl brought their faces close together. The next words were spoken a millimeter from his dermas. “You are exquisite.”

Jazz’s processors stalled as Prowl caught his dermas in a kiss; the contact brief, but powerful. All of his cables and plating locked. The elder god must have sensed his tension and pulled back with an apologetic look.

“Forgive me, you are not ready for such-”

Jazz brought up a servo and placed it on Prowl’s dermas to stop him. Tentatively, he framed Prowl’s face and leaned up to brushed a shy return kiss to surprised dermas.

Prowl’s servos found Jazz’s waist. His voice dropped half an octave. “You don’t know how you tempt me.”

“I… think I might have fallen in love with you.” Jazz whispered.

He caught sight of Prowl’s flashing blue optics before the world spun around him and he suddenly fell back on a soft surface with Prowl looming over him. Jazz gasped and took in the unfamiliar room and berth he now resided in. Black and silver dominated the space. 

“How did we-?”

“I hold domain over all in this realm. I brought us here.” Prowl said, voice dark with promise. He caged Jazz’s supine form with his arms and legs, brought their faces close.

“You should tell me to stop.”

Jazz’s spark beat frantically, but he was unafraid. He reached up, digits finding plating. 

“I don’t want you to.”

Prowl descended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That escalated quickly. Yes, this is a fade to black. This story only rated T. ;)


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit that it took me until this chapter to decide who Jazz's carrier was going to be.

Starscream studied the haggard-looking blue femme that had come to his aviary. He had never seen this particular goddess so frazzled before. 

“Chromia, what can I do for you?”

“You are the god of our star. You see everything that its light touches. Where is my creation? Where is my Jazz?”

He frowned. Across his trine-bond he could feel Thundercracker and Skywarp’s interest. They were the gods of Cybertron’s two moons; larger and smaller, respectively. Between the three of them, they knew all the movements of Cybertron. 

Yes, he knew what had happened, but divulging the information would be something of a personal betrayal. The God of the Underworld and he'd had their differences in the past. Their priorities and proclivities too different to really get along. But Prowl had Starscream’s respect, grudging though it might be. He did not know Jazz. Chromia had seen to that. She'd jealously guarded her creation from the optics of most of the other gods. Starscream and his trine only knew about him because they literally saw everything that occurred on Cybertron if they paid enough attention. The young god had seemed lively and graceful (for a grounder). His abduction had been sudden and impressive. Prowl certainly did not do things halfway.

“I see many things,” he rasped. “Perhaps Jazz just finally gained the wherewithal to leave your cloister.”

“Do not play games with me light god.” She raged. “He is a dutiful and loyal creation, he would not leave me willingly. Something has happened to him. You will tell me where he is!”

Starscream lifted slightly on his thrusters, wings flaring in affront. “Why should I help you, ground goddess?” he snapped.

Chromia pressed her lip-plates together into a thin line before abruptly curling in on herself as if she was in pain.

“Please. Without Jazz, Cybertron and its mortals will waste away. It is already starting.”

Starscream’s optics brightened in shock and then filled with static as he used his connection to their star to gaze at the world. He looked past the macro-movements and down to the mortals. He saw crumbling crystals and drying energon wells. Famine was spreading, the weak and the old deactivating. Mechs and femmes were beginning to despair at the food shortages, praying long joors at Chromia’s temples to no avail.

He came back to himself with a quick in-vent.

“Why is this happening? Why do you not answer the mortals’ prayers?” 

Chromia said nothing for a few breems, looking away. She met his optics again.

“Help me.”

Starscream hesitated and reached through the bond. Both of his mates immediately responded. Comforting presences in his spark.

“...I know where he is.”


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *insert love theme here* (I'm partial to "A Time For Us" by Henry Mancini)

Jazz onlined before Prowl. His optics turned on to find Prowl’s face close to his. He looked young in repose, free of duties and responsibilities. The God of the Underworld had hooked an arm and a leg around Jazz in recharge, holding him nearly flush to his frame. 

Jazz concentrated on his spark and felt the new and comforting weight of Prowl’s presence. It was drowsy and subdued now rather than the vast expanse he’d felt when they’d first joined sparks. His circuits warmed with the memory of their pleasures. 

“You are tempting me again, my love.” Prowl’s vocalizer was laced with sleepy static. His optics half-lit and he gave Jazz a warm little smirk that made his ports tingle pleasantly.

“How terrible,” Jazz said impishly and gave Prowl a quick kiss.

Or, it would have been quick if Prowl hadn’t gently snared an audial horn to keep him in place while giving him a properly long kiss.

Both of their fans had turned on by the time they were done. Prowl shifted and slightly rolled to blanket Jazz’s form with his own. The visored god’s vents stuttered slightly as he let out an airy laugh. He brought his servos up to frame and trace the elegantly patrician features of Prowl’s faceplates. The bond pulsed between them, open and warm. Jazz bathed in the glow of Prowl’s love, humbled by its depth. It wrapped him in security and gave him confidence that he had not felt since his departure from the upper world. Jazz blissfully projected his own love, newer and delicate, but just as strong.

_**I love you, my darkness.** _

_**And I you, my crystal bloom.** _

Prowl nuzzled the crest of his helm and sat up on the berth. “Would you accompany me to court this cycle?”

The apprehension Jazz had previously felt for such an endeavor died beneath the unwavering calm and sincerity he felt from Prowl’s side of their bond.

He sat up as well. “Alright.” He agreed. And though Prowl’s optics only brightened slightly, Jazz could feel the strength of the other god’s happiness. 

Then Prowl ducked his helm, looking uncharacteristically shy. “I had special court garb designed for you that I hoped you would wear on your first cycle there.” The god looked at him hopefully. “Might I convince you to wear it?”

Jazz tilted his helm mischievously and asked, “Are you going to help me put it on, my lord?”

Prowl’s systems revved delightfully, though he demurred. “As much as I would enjoy such an endeavor, I’m afraid doing so would postpone court for the cycle. I’ll send Quickgrip in to help you prepare.”

Prowl escorted him back to his rooms, which happened to be only a door down from the rooms they had been in. Jazz let his amusement flicker teasingly across the bond which gained him another long kiss in his doorway.

The servant femme arrived a few breems later. Her happy clucking at his floatiness only enhancing his good mood. She was an older carrier sort. It was impossible to tell what color she’d been as all shades faded to a deathly grey once in the Underworld.

“I see m’lords have had a good dark-cycle. Good! You both need happiness. Now, let’s get you properly pampered.” 

Jazz grinned. He liked the femme’s no nonsense attitude. Of all the servants he’d talked to, she was one of his favorites.

She bustled him into the washracks where she proceeded to polish him til he shone. Then she led him to the closet where she pulled down a long white manganese mesh tunic embroidered with delicate silver thread in the shape of crystal sprigs. After enveolping him in the flowing garment, Quickgrip walked over to the jewelry case and opened a compartment that he hadn’t thought to open before. In it was a set of platinum adornments set with matching deep blue tanzanite. First to go on was a segmented collar necklace that reached down to middle of his chestplate, then a set of cuff bracelets etched with more crystal blooms. Next, the femme fastened a platinum belt just above his hip struts and clipped platinum pauldrons to the fabric at his shoulders. A semi-transparent capelet was added to the pauldrons. She delicately added the audial horn ornaments. The last thing she took from the compartment made him balk for just a moment.

A jeweled diadem.

Was he ready for such a thing? Could he really help rule an entire realm?

He felt Prowl’s concern at his misgivings through the bond and sent a soothing pulse.

Prowl responded with an unadulterated wash of love.

Jazz smiled. He could do this.

He tilted his head to the femme, who had paused seeing his nervousness. She smiled brightly at him and affixed the diadem to his helm completing the look. 

She backed up when she was done, clasping her servos in front of her mouth, pale optics bright with pride and happiness. “Oh! You are a vision of loveliness!” She bowed to him deeply.

“Thank you, but please, you don’t have to do that.”

She straightened from her bow, “I bow because I respect you, my lord. You are too humble.” She patted his cheek good-naturedly and turned him towards the mirror. 

He had to reset his optics. He… looked amazing.

Muted anticipation from his bondmate made him smile slightly.

“Prowl’s waiting for me.”

Quickgrip retrieved the crystal staff Jazz had grown in the garden and offered it to him with a proud twinkle in her optics.

The light knock on his door announced Prowl’s arrival. Quickgrip opened the door for Jazz and stood back to afford the new bondmates a semi-private moment in the entryway. 

Jazz took in the nearly glowing shine of Prowl’s plating and the ornate doric chiton made of black tungsten mesh with silver accents. His black titanium cuffs and spiked crown set with crimson rubies contrasted beautifully with Jazz’s own embellishments. He also carried a staff that Jazz had never seen before. Silver-black with a rampant three-headed turbo-hound mounted on the top. 

Prowl offered his clawed servo, “My Queen.”

Jazz had to reset his vocalizer and vented softly, “My King.” He took the proffered servo and allowed himself to be led. A tiny, happy squeal sounded behind them as the door to his rooms closed.

Though no other words were spoken the bond was wide open and awash with emotions between them.

Love. Lust. Pride. Jubilation. Contentment. Devotion.

The besotted smile didn’t leave or dim from Jazz’s face even when the elaborate, intimidating doors to the Great Hall loomed in front of them. The servants opened the doors wide and they swept into the hall. Waiting shades milled on either side of an invisible “corridor” that led up to a raised dais with two thrones-one made of black and silver titanium and one made of white crystals, all bowing low when the two of them walked past. Prowl led him to the dais and handed him into the crystal throne. It cradled him comfortably, there was even a place to set his staff. Then Prowl sat on the other throne. 

_**Have there always been two thrones?**_ Jazz asked silently with a flare of curiosity.

A soft, possessive rumble answered him. _**I had that throne made for you, my Queen.**_

Jazz ran a digit tip on the arm of his throne. _**It is beautiful.**_

_**Of course. It had to match your beauty.** _

Out loud, Prowl spoke calmly to a servant shade waiting at the edge of the dais. “Sentry, we are ready to begin this cycle.”

The mech nodded and started announcing names from a datapad. 

_**What happens now?**_ Jazz asked.

_**Now we judge the dead, my Queen.**_ Prowl murmured. His free servo found Jazz’s and clasped it. Jazz rearranged the grip to lace their digits together.

The first few shades called forward were quickly judged and sent on their way. The next called was a young mech Confused and angry, the first thing he did was yell at Prowl.

“Where is my conjunx?! He’s supposed to be here. I can’t find him!”

“You both deactivated, young one.” Prowl said evenly. “He before came before you and moved on. You are now also in the Underworld. Your spark is pure and unblemished, you may enter the Well.”

“No! Not without my conjunx! He’s here, I know he is! I can feel him!” The young mech’s ephemeral vents started to hiccup and sob. He fell to his knees. 

Jazz remembered what Prowl had said about seeing into a mech’s spark. Without really processing what he was doing, Jazz concentrated on the bond and looked at the distraught mech through his bonded’s optics. He suddenly got flashes of the mech’s life, his name, and...

_**What are you doing, my love?**_ Prowl was curious, but not trying to stop him. 

_**There, look! Do you see that thread of energy running to his spark?** _

He could feel the elder god attempting to see what he did. It was a thin glittery strand stretching from the shade in the direction of the Well. 

_**His bond.**_ Prowl realized. 

_**Oh… it’s singing…** _

Jazz got up and walked down the steps of the dais to kneel in front of the distraught mech.

“You will see him again, Fireflare. Be still and concentrate. Feel him. He’s waiting for you. Calling to you.”

“R-really?” 

Jazz tapped the young mech’s olfactory tip with a soft playful poke of a digit and gave a gentle smile.

“Listen. Can’t you hear his song?”

The shade looked surprised and then offlined his optics. Jazz enveloped him in a hug and hummed with the multi-toned bond song to strengthen it.

“I can hear him.” The mech murmured.

The familiar feeling of the shade’s frame fading in his arms didn’t distress him. He gave the spark left in his servos and little encouraging boost and watched it fly away to the Well. 

He returned to his throne and only then realized that the entirety of the gathered shades had prostrated themselves in front of him.

He looked at Prowl a little helplessly, but Prowl only smiled. Smugly content pride radiating across the bond.

Jazz probably should have felt affronted but he just felt… right. There was no other way he could describe it. It was as if he’d finally found something he hadn’t known he’d been yearning for. A place. A purpose.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go, I think.   
> Chromia was a little less combative than I though she'd be. Eh, probably has to do with the "love conquers all" mindset Disney instilled in me as a kid. :)

Chromia finally stepped out onto the plains of the Underworld. They journey through the dark confusing tunnels to the land of the dead had been long and twisting. Far from the barren landscape she was expecting, crystals and burbling white-blue energon thrived here.

“You can already see Jazz’s influence.” her companion murmured.

She glanced at the blue and white mech for a klik before turning her attention towards the imposing palace in the distance. Mirage, God of Magic and Crossroads, was one of the few immortals that she had allowed to meet Jazz. 

After her visit to Starscream she had gone to him begging for his help. Getting into the Underworld without invitation or death was very difficult. Only Mirage, Blurr the Messenger God and the King of the Underworld himself knew the bewildering paths into the realm. If she’d asked the Messenger God, the other gods on the Mountain would have become curious and she did not want that. Demanding Prowl to let her in was out of the question; he was the one who’d stolen Jazz in the first place! Fortunately, she and Mirage were cordial and he had a sort of friendship with Jazz. And Mirage was the only one who knew the truth.

Chromia squared her shoulder struts. “The sooner we get him out of this place, the better.”

Mirage’s optics went unfocused for a moment. “That may be harder than you think, my dear.” 

She was used to his cryptic sayings and didn’t bother to answer though her armor fluffed up in consternation. If Prowl thought he could stop her from leaving with her sweet sparklet, he had another thing coming!

They made their way to the palace, passing shades awaiting judgement. Chromia frowned, remorseful that many of them had passed because of the energon shortages. She also became confused as they were greeted at the doors by servant shades and led to the Great Hall. Either the God of the Underworld didn’t know she was here (which was unlikely), or he was unconcerned by her presence (which incensed her).

As the doors opened Chromia had to stop herself from gaping. There was her sweet creation, her little Jazz, sitting on a crystal throne next to Prowl, himself. They were a resplendent study in matched contrasts. Dark and light. Metal and crystal. Death… and rebirth.

She rushed into the room. “Jazz!”

His visor lit up with surprise and a bit of happiness.

“Carrier?”

“I’m here sweetspark. I came to get you out of this horrible place.”

Jazz frowned. “It’s not horrible here, just different.”

Her Jazz always found the good even in the strangest places, she reflected. Patiently she said, “Be that as it may, it is still time to leave.”

“...Carrier, I can’t leave, I’m bonded to Prowl.”

For a klik she thought her audials had failed, for she could not have heard that correctly. “You most certainly can leave. You are a god, sparkbonds can be broken.”

Distress flashed over his face. “No! I love him, Carrier.”

“He kidnapped you! He probably forced you to bond. He’s a monster.”

Jazz stood raising his voice until it echoed about the hall. “Stop! I won’t have you saying such things about my bondmate!” 

Chromia was shocked into silence. Never had Jazz acted that way before. Never had he shouted at her.

Mirage stepped in smoothly before she could find her vocalizer again. “My lords, it has been a long journey to get here and tempers are short. Might we continue this conversation in more private settings after a bit of a rest?”

Prowl gently clasped Jazz’s servo and silently urged him to sit back down. “Of course. Our servants shall escort you to the Diamond Parlor where you may refresh yourselves until dinner.”

“Thank you.” Mirage placed a servo on Chromia’s shoulder strut half turning her; his optics flashed in warning. 

She said nothing, but did shoot a glare at Prowl as the servant led them out.

The room they were taken to reflected its name rather literally. Diamonds studded the onyx floors in a sweeping spiral design. Chromia couldn’t relax, pacing back and forth in front of the lavish couch that Mirage had draped himself on.

“How can you be so calm?” She railed. “Something has happened to him down here.”

“You mean besides growing up and bonding.” Mirage said dryly.

“Do not joke about this.” Chromia snapped.

Mirage just raised an optical ridge. “I am not. Even you must admit that you coddled him and did not allow him much autonomy. Just because you were once taken advantage of does not mean the same will happen to him. You never allowed him to experience life. And now that he has tasted freedom, you cannot be surprised that he has embraced it.”

“You cannot call this freedom! He was brought here against his will!”

“And yet here he remained and has asked to remain.” the blue and white god pointed out. “Perhaps you should ask him what he has experienced here, rather than what has happened to him.”

“They are the same thing.” She argued.

“Are they?”

She frowned. “You are infuriatingly cryptic as always.”

Mirage just smiled.

After a few joors a different faded gray servant escorted them to the dining hall. 

The large table in the middle of the hall was set for four; two across from two. Jazz and their dark host were already seated next to each other. Chromia clenched her servos into fists, but made no comment as Mirage held the chair out for her and they situated themselves into their seats.

A varied spread was laid out in front of them. She could sense that it was all energon and additives from the upper world except for the energon in Prowl’s chalice.

“Carrier,” Jazz broke the silence softly, “I am glad to see you. I missed you.”

Her spark warmed. “I have missed you too, sweetspark. I was so worried. Which I wouldn’t have been if you had been left unmolested.” She turned a glare on the impassive God of the Underworld.

“Don’t say that! It’s not like that.” Jazz denied. “Prowl loves me. He helped me. I’m so much more than just a wandering crystal god.”

“I know that!” Chromia snapped, then her voice softened. “I’ve always known that.”

Jazz looked distraught. “You knew? And you didn’t tell me?”

Chromia sighed swirling the energon in her chalice contemplatively. She took a moment to look, really look, at her creation. He looked… grown up. Regal and strangely at home in the dark surroundings. In fact, the setting only seemed to enhance him. She cycled her optics steeling herself… and confessed. “I am called the Goddess of Growth, but that is not entirely true. When you were sparked I let everyone assume that I had had relations with some minor godling somewhere. But I didn’t. I single-sparked you. You never knew your sire because you don’t have one. That is the first secret I kept from you. 

“The second is that for a god or goddess to single spark they must imbue some of their power into the newspark. You gained my power of renewal and new growth. I kept my power of harvest and agriculture, of boosting flowing energon wells and bountiful longevity. But that was all. I never regretted it. How could I after I first saw your little face?

“I told none of the other gods because I was trying to keep you safe and away from their machinations. If they knew of your power, some of them might have tried to come claim you.”

There was silence for a moment.

“But someone did come to claim me.” Jazz said. “And he did it before he knew what kind of power I had.”

Chromia glared at Prowl again, but it had lost some of its viciousness. She turned back to Jazz pleadingly.

“You must come back, sweetspark. The world will die without you.”

Jazz seemed to fold in on himself. “I… The world will die? Because of me? But I thought I’d finally found my place here. Love. I thought… You’re asking me to choose between my spark and my duty?”

Chromia felt a swirl of sympathy. “I’m sorry, sparklet.”

Prowl looked expressionless, but a closer look revealed his servos curled into tight fists against the arms of his chair.

“There is something else to consider,” Mirage said almost nonchalantly, stirring his energon with a rust stick. “This will not stay secret anymore. The others will know about Jazz now. If he chooses to return, and is so far removed from his bonded, some gods may try to take advantage of that and break the bond to make their own.”

Prowl actually growled and Jazz reached blindly for his bondmate.

Chromia… hadn’t actually thought about that, even though she’d so flippantly suggested something similar earlier. The thought chilled her to the core.

Jazz laced his digits with Prowl’s, face earnest and optics slightly overbright with panic. “I won’t let them take our bond away.” Jazz whispered.

Chromia recognized that look. The first time she’d seen it on Jazz’s face when he’d been just a sparkling and not yet past the clicks and beeps of language. He’d just seen his favorite mecha-sparrow die. He hadn’t understood. How could he, being so young. But that look had crossed his face before he’d unconsciously let out a burst of his power reviving the little bird with a flash of light. He’d toddle off happily afterwards, with his friend chirping away in his servos. Chromia had been startled by the show of power, but ultimately relieved that he’s been too young to commit the moment to his memory banks.

She knew that look. It was usually followed by a desperate or impressive act by her creation.

“Jazz,” she tried to derail whatever was going through his processor. “I’ll protect you.”

“Your protection alone will not be enough, Chromia, you know this.” Prowl said severely. Chromia was about to snap back at him, but he turned away to nuzzle Jazz’s helm comfortingly. They were obviously communicating over their bond.

As she watched, something in her that had been beaten hard by loneliness and past betrayals softened. She found herself looking at Mirage in helplessness.

Perhaps her inattention was what he’d been waiting for, or it was just the moment he finally snapped, but in that klik, Jazz surged forward and seized Prowl’s chalice. He brought it to his dermas.

“Jazz!” It was the most emotion Chromia had heard in Prowl’s voice... ever. “If you drink that you’ll-”

“Become tied to the Underworld.” Jazz said calmly, though his servos shook slightly. “I’ll have to come back and no one would be able to challenge your bond to me.”

Whatever was conveyed over the bond made Prowl relax.

Jazz turned his visor on her. “Please understand, Carrier. I’m not asking for your approval and I’m sorry if this hurts you. But I have to… I have to.”

And though her vents stuttered and she had to reset her vocalizer, she managed a tremulous smile for her sparklet. “I understand, sweetspark. You… have my blessing.”

His visored optics shone with gratitude. He drank.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Orns=Months, just fyi.

Jazz kissed Prowl one last time at the entrance to the maze of caves that led to the surface. He could feel through the wide-open bond how much the mech didn’t want him to leave even if he agreed that Jazz had to go for the sake of the upper world.

“I love you.” Prowl whispered achingly.

Jazz smiled though he loosed a soft static-y sob. “And I you.”

_**I will be back soon. Wait for me.** _

_**Forever, my beloved.** _

“Come,” Mirage said gently pulling Jazz away. The visored god looked back at Prowl until they're path started twisting and he lost sight of him.

The blue and white god led them through the cold caverns. Jazz shivered a bit, the fine meshes and adornments of the Underworld left behind in his rooms, frowning as the bond became muted the further from the Underworld they traveled. He could still feel Prowl, but that was about it.

His carrier suddenly took his servo and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Don’t worry,” she murmured, “we’ll find a solution.”

Jazz cycled his optics in confusion. “But I thought you…”

She gave a small, dry chuckle. “I may not like Prowl or the fact that I have to share you with him, but I can see he makes you happy." She tugged him into a one-armed hug. "We’ll find a way to work this out.”

He let the hope he was feeling flow through the bond, willing Prowl to feel it too. He leaned his helm lightly on his carrier’s shoulder as they walked. “Thank you, Carrier.” he said softly.

 

They emerged from the caves not far from the fields that Jazz had first encountered Prowl. The crystal trees around them were all dull and lifeless. Jazz placed a servo on one and turned off his optics. 

“Everything is so dead.” Chromia fretted for a moment.

Everything around him sang lowly. Soft and lethargic. 

“They’re not dead.” Jazz said, sounding far away. He turned on his optics again. “They’re sleeping.”

“What do you mean?” Mirage asked curiously.

Jazz smiled, moving to kneel on the ground and dug his digits into the crushed mineral soil. “They’re still there, deep and dormant. I just have to wake them up.”

Jazz began to hum, coaxing the sleepy ground around him to respond. Then he opened his mouth and sang. He wove together the differing songs of the trees and the blooms in the soil with the deep underground energon and the delicate filigree minerals wilted in front of him. Trills, arpeggios, harmonies and full chords spilled from his vocalizer in a symphony of life and creation.

Slowly, the crystals brightened around him, filigree perked up, in the distance he could hear the soft beginning burbles of an energon stream refilling. He reached for his power, warm and bright next to his spark and his bond. From the bond itself, he felt nothing but pure love radiating out , strong and constant. He tapped into that reserve, twinning it with his power. Warm white light erupted from his plating rushing over the ground, lush blankets of metallic and crystalline life springing up in its wake.

He felt it when Cybertron fully woke. Alive, awake and renewed.

Jazz rose to his pedes, a wreath of multi-colored crystals adorning his helm. Shouts of joy radiated through the forest as the nymphs found them and gaily sang and danced for Jazz’s return.

Chromia had never been more proud of her creation than she was in that moment.

 

Six Orns later…

Chromia watched in amusement as Sideswipe and Sunstreaker once again tried to overtly coax Jazz to share their berth. Jazz didn’t come to Primus’ mountain very often, time taken by his duties as it were, but when he did he charmed everyone. And there was plenty of interest in the once-unknown god. 

The blue Goddess of the Harvest hid her smirk as Jazz demurred once again, reminding them laughingly that he was happily bonded. Only a few select gods and goddesses knew who he was bonded to and the gods of love and beauty were not among that number.

“Those two are playing with fire.” Mirage commented in an amused voice echoing her thoughts.

“It’s not Jazz’s fault that they think he’s bonded is some mortal that will never know.”

“They’ll find out soon enough, I suppose.” Mirage mused.

“Oh?” Chromia said with mock surprise, “Was that today?”

Mirage shot her an amused smirk before sobering. “One can only hope the mortals are ready for his absence.”

“I have bolstered them and taught them what I can.” Chromia said with a sigh. “The rest of the Sleeping Season is up to them.”

“Mortals are resilient. They will be alright.” Mirage said confidently.

An echoy crack sounded on the other side of the room. Chromia craned her helm in time to see a familiar silhouette step out of a dark rend in reality. Optimus, the God of Peace and Prosperity greeted the newcomer warmly.

“Prowl! It has been a long time since we have seen you on the mountain.”

“I am only here for a short while. I’m retrieving my-”

“PROWL!!” Jazz squealed happily and streaked across the room in a black and white blur leaving the Twins flabbergasted at his sudden departure. Optimus stepped out of the way just in time as Jazz launched himself at the God of the Underworld.

To his credit, Prowl caught his sparkmate and actually used the momentum to swing Jazz around in a graceful arc while grinning. _Grinning!_ He set Jazz back on his pedes and kissed him deeply. 

Chromia had to bite her glossa from openly laughing at the shocked squaks coming from some of the gods and goddesses in the room.

“I missed you so much!” Jazz said happily once he had use of his mouth again.

“I missed you too, my crystal bloom.” Prowl murmured, nuzzling him.

The tender moment was slightly interrupted when Sideswipe found his vocalizer again and squeaked, “Wait… you’re bonded… to _him_?”

Jazz didn’t even spare him a glance, too absorbed in relearning Prowl’s features. “Yes.”

“Here.” Prowl said reaching into subspace and retrieving Jazz’s crystal staff. Jazz grasped it firmly and suddenly he was wearing his courtly raiments and jewelry, complete with diadem.

Jazz finally looked over his shoulder at the gaping assembly. “Oh, didn't you know? I am the God of Rebirth and Queen of the Underworld. And it is time for me to return to my bonded's side.” He gave Chromia a sweet smile. “Goodbye Carrier. I’ll see you in six orns.”

“See you soon, sparklet.” she called with a bittersweet smile. “Take care of him, King of the Underworld.” she warned as only a carrier could.

Prowl bowed his helm, though there was a slight twinkle in his optic. “You have my word, Goddess of the Harvest.”

They stepped through the portal and were gone.

Sideswipe pointed at the space where the portal had just been. “Guh-buh-what?!”

“I would like a fragging explanation as well,” came the raspy rumble of Megatron, God of War and Strife.

Mirage looked at Chromia and winked out an optic for half a klik. “Well,” he said turning to the assembled immortals, “I suppose we could tell you what happened… Our story begins with a lonely god…”


End file.
